Chapter Text
Shane Hollander has never known failure in his life.
Born to one of the biggest names in Canada, the twenty five year old super model continues to climb the road to success as he stuns in a new photoshoot for Variety. The face of Hollander & Co. has spoken about how much pride it brings him to be the face of his parents’ company–yes, the very one you find its distinctive H&C logo on every sport's gear out there!
Shane dismisses the article shortly, not wanting to get sucked into what yet another magazine has written about him. Being an openly gay super model for a company in the sports industry sure is…something. But Shane doesn't regret coming out one bit. He still remembers the day he sat his parents down to tell them, and how they had been nothing but supportive of him. Then they had gotten down to business right away, because even though Shane felt like it shouldn't take up that big of a space in people's minds, his sexuality still could potentially affect his parents’ work.
The Hollanders were shocked when shortly after Shane came out, there was a surge in their profit. Of course, some industries didn't take that very well as they expected, but the support from the others was able to cushion their market share until they rested well as the one and only corporation providing sports equipment for almost every sport there is. And of course, Shane's already existing publicity that quadrupled after coming out was and remains a good pump of revenue to the business. Shane isn't involved a lot in the business dynamic with his parents hoarding all the work to themselves (by nature), and instead is more than happy to advocate for his parents’ work and queer youth in sports.
Though removed from the day to day business, Shane may have overheard his parents talking more than once about some complications that they have been facing lately. His mother, a power figure in running a business, looked more and more distressed every day. And his father, an expert in the sports professional business, grew quieter and quieter.
“What's going on?” Shane asks over his dinner plate. “Is something wrong with work?”
“No. No, honey. Nothing that you should worry about,” Yuna is the first to reply. “How was your interview with GQ?” She changes the subject, but Shane doesn't miss the quiver in her voice, or the way his dad places his hand over hers on the table.
“There's something you're not telling me. What is it? What can I do to help?” Shane ignores her poor attempt of hiding whatever she is trying to hide.
“Shane,” his dad says, a tired edge in his voice. “You know Hollander & Co. isn't a small company, so the size of the problems we face also aren't small.”
“Okay, then tell me what it is so I can help you," Shane argues, feeling protective of his parents' work that he has been a part of since he turned eighteen.
“There is nothing you can do at the moment,” Yuna interjects. She reaches out her hand and holds Shane's curled one on the table. “You do what you do best, yeah?” She squeezes his hand. “Keep shining for us.”
So, Shane does exactly that. He works extra hard to book as many interviews and photoshoots as he can in hopes that the money it gets him might help his parents. His email floods with opportunities from big clothing brand names whether sportswear or not like Calvin Klein, La Coste, and Armani. His face (and body) are basically plastered all over billboards and street ads for different brands at this point, all nodding to Hollander & Co. one way or another.
It is not until they told him one week ago that Shane realised it was all basically for nothing.
“Shane, I want you to know how proud we are of you and everything you have done for us and yourself,” his mum starts. Her eyes look red-rimmed, which deeply alarms Shane.
He doesn't think he has ever seen his mum cry unless it was happy tears. So, to see her crushed like this makes him feel like his entire world is spinning.
“We, uh, your dad and I, wanted to tell you that you don't have to model for Hollander & Co. anymore. There are hundreds of brands who wouldn't think for a beat before signing you on.”
Shane's heart drops. “What?”
“We have been in a tricky position for a while, son. And your mother and I have decided that it would be better if we do it ourselves instead of the press picking at us,” David says solemnly.
“Do what? I don't–Dad, what's going on?”
“We're losing the company, Shane.” Mum puts it in blunt, painful words.
“This doesn't make any sense, you said that it was just a problem we can overcome, that we can figure something out, I don't– mum, this is your life's work.” Shane stands up and starts pacing. “There must be a way to not let go of it, tell me who I can sign with. We can get a partnership or something–”
“Well, there is one way,” David interrupts, exchanging a nervous look with his wife.
Yuna lets out a shaky breath. “It may be our last resort, and if it doesn't work out, then at least we know that we tried everything.” She looks at Shane with uncertainty.
“Okay…okay, that's good, right?” Shane tries to slow down his own breathing.
“We'll find out tomorrow.” David nods once, looking down at his hand that is clasped protectively around his wife's.
Yuna Hollander sits with her hands folded tightly in her lap. The air around her and her husband is a bit chilly, or maybe it is her nerves. Or maybe it's the fact that she is sitting in the last place she would ever want to be right now. Never in her over twenty years of managing Hollander & Co. has she imagined that she would go beg a holding company to rescue her own company out of its misery. Deep down, Yuna knows that it is a normal bump on the road. It happens. But not to her, not to her family. And the holding company is definitely not Rozanov Holding.
“Ah, to what do I owe the pleasure?” A deep, heavily Russian accented voice sounds through the office followed by a whiff of sharp cologne as the youngest of the Rozanov family, Ilya Rozanov, strides past the Hollanders in a business suit. He shakes both their hands in a formal greeting and goes to sit behind his large glass desk.
“I think you know, Rozanov.” David retorts professionally, but Yuna can sense just how reluctant this is as much as it is for her. “A CEO like you surely has his eyes and ears everywhere.”
Yuna expects a sly remark from him, but on the contrary, he nods once and the humor drops from his face. “Is true. I'm sorry for your company.”
She studies him for a moment. So far, he is everything the internet says about him. Cocky, full of himself, and undeniably handsome. Yuna remembers the time she saw him named among Forbes’ Top 30 Under 30 list as one of the most influential people in the business world. Not only is the twenty-five year old in front of her an owner to a company that holds over a hundred subsidiaries under it, but he is also known for his philanthropic works such as donating to charities and facilities that cater for mental health. Technically, he has every right to be full of himself when half of the market belongs to him, but over the years, the Hollanders’ company has stood as maybe Rozanov's rival in terms of revenue and market share.
Which is why this whole thing leaves a bitter taste on Yuna's tongue when she says, “no, you're not.”
She takes a deep breath and straightens her back. “I think the three of us already know what we're here to discuss. So, let's get to work.” She may have thrown the file containing all the information Rozanov needs about their company onto his desk, but if he seemed offended, he was good at hiding it.
He pulls the dossier over to him and Yuna watches as he studies it carefully. His eyes go over the reports in there, then he brings out a notebook and starts writing a few things down. A spark of something hits Yuna in her chest, and she is shocked to realise that his meticulousness reminds her so much of herself when she was just his age. She exchanges a glance with David who shoots her a subtle smile and nods at her, silently saying “don't worry.”. Though this is everything Yuna can do at the moment. In fact, she couldn't sleep at all last night. Her head kept spiralling with different possibilities. What if Rozanov declined? Worse, what if he agreed? What would it look like to the public? What would it be like for them? What would it be like for Shane?
“I have an offer.” Rozanov's voice pulls Yuna out of her thoughts, snapping her back to the moment.
“Yes?” David asks expectantly.
“I can help you,” he says, flipping the file closed. “I think with your status in the market, it is not preferable for you to be known as owned by someone else.”
Yuna almost scoffs, because of course.
“Which is why I have the perfect offer for you.” He leans forward in his seat. “Your company remains yours, you remain the owners of everything as if I do not exist. I take 35% , and the rest is yours.”
The words “that's plain stupid” almost leave Yuna, but she bites her tongue back and freezes for a second.
“This doesn't make sense,” David says from next to her, equally confused.
The gears shift in Yuna's mind, and she finds herself asking “what's in it for you? This is an insignificant amount for a holding company like yours, so what do you want in return, Rozanov?”
Something glimmers in the young man's eyes, and Yuna realises that she might have underestimated just how smart and cunning he is. Someone who makes an offer like this will definitely ask for something equally insane in return. It pisses her off and impresses her at the same time, because if this weren't the situation and Rozanov weren't technically buying them, Yuna would have had him as an asset for Hollander & Co. immediately. She can see why he is sitting where he exactly is right now.
“I only ask for one thing in return.” Rozanov relaxes back in his seat, the motion darkening his hazel eyes to an ember brown.
There surely isn't anything they can't give him at this point. He gets less than half of the company, and in front of everyone else, the Hollanders are still the ones in charge. It's almost too perfect.
“Your son.”
“I beg your finest pardon?” It takes everything in her not to say “what the fuck?” instead.
“You can't be serious.” David launches forward in his seat, stopping himself at the last moment. “What kind of messed up business is this?”
Rozanov is unfazed by their outburst, only raising his eyebrows at David.
He takes a long, dramatic breath then says, “the kind that will save your company from bankruptcy, Mr. Hollander.”
Yuna is about to fire back another reply when the person before her that could only be described as a fox starts speaking again.
“You see, for your company to come back stronger, this deal will require about one year to take full effect. But, you also don't want word to spread that you have been bought, so I'm only suggesting a diplomatic move. An arranged marriage that makes your son a Rozanov, and therefore an owner of everything else that is mine.”
David and Yuna are shocked into silence. When they woke up this morning, they were only determined to do one thing: save their company. They didn't ever think that their only son would even be a variable in this scenario. If anything, they wanted to push him away from Hollander & Co. and towards a better and bigger modeling career.
When Yuna thinks about it, it sounds like a strategic move between two of the biggest figures in the business. A partnership that lasts for one year, and then each goes both their separate ways. In an ideal world, it sounds perfect. A scenario that the press will eat up and live on for months. A distraction from the deteriorating reputation of Hollander & Co.. Except this is not an ideal world, and Ilya Rozanov is bluntly asking them to sell their son off to live with him for an entire year so he can save their asses.
“No,” Yuna's voice shakes.
Rozanov's eyes flicker to Yuna whose mind is warring with itself.
“No?” Ilya asks, not hiding the tinge of surprise in his voice. “Your son is one of the most talked about people in Canada and beyond. Think about what joining the youngest CEO in a purely strategic marriage would do to your business. He will be staying at my penthouse, he will have anything he wants, and he can keep his job as a model–I do not wish to control him at all.”
At that, David audibly scoffs. “No, of course not. Forcing him to marry you, someone he barely knows, is not controlling at all.”
Yuna grips his hand, something painful pressing against the inside of her throat. She knows they might have grown overprotective of Shane over the years especially after coming out. No one knows how much he has been through except for the two of them, so it's perfectly normal to react the way David is reacting, and to her the answer is crystal clear. It might sound diplomatic, but Yuna and David know how much it will be the farthest from it when the two parents and their son have harbored a secret, mild hatred for the businessman in front of them.
Especially Shane.
In the year Ilya was named one of Forbes’ most influential figures, Shane was recognised as People's Sexiest Man Alive. In the year Hollander & Co. was announced among the World's Top 10 Successful Companies, Rozanov Holding was celebrating becoming the No.1 Holding Company in Canada and the States. They have always butt headed each other to the top over the years, and Yuna knew Shane hated Ilya's ways. They are polar opposites. It would never work, and Yuna would never put Shane in a situation like this. Even if it costs her everything she has worked on for more than a decade.
“These are my terms of agreement,” Ilya calmly says.
Yuna stands up with David following. “Good day, Mr. Rozanov,” she says, her tone clipped. It's a wonder she is able to speak properly with the amount of anger rushing through her right now.
“My offer stands for two days.” He rises from his seat as well, completely ignoring Yuna and David's dismissal of his absurd offer.
Yuna almost wants to throw the gold name plate on his desk at him. Like hell they're going to accept it.
The walk out of the Rozanov Holding building is liberating, unlike the ride back home, which is nothing but a rage-filled speech from Yuna about how audacious Rozanov is. She hates that a twisted part of her is impressed with his proposal, but he is just equally insolent if not offensive with that same said proposal.
“How did it go?” Shane's voice startles Yuna out of her agitation. “Who were you meeting with anyway?”
Yuna makes a resigned, annoyed sound in response. Of course, she couldn't tell him whom they were meeting beforehand. She knew that Shane would try to stop them or worse, go with them. Oh god. A shiver runs through her when she pictures Shane with them when Rozanov made that suggestion of his.
“We met Ilya Rozanov,” David sighs the name rather than saying it.
***
We met Ilya Rozanov.
“You–the Ilya Rozanov?” Shane echoes in bewilderment after his parents who head to the kitchen.
“I need a drink.” He hears his mum say under her breath as she reaches for a glass. It's barely the afternoon.
Shane looks at his dad, waiting for an explanation. David's lips draw into a thin line, his shoulders squaring into a tense stance. “What happened? What did he say?”
Yuna starts muttering in angry Japanese while David tries to calm her down. “The little fucker.” She switches back to English. “I'd rather burn my company down than take his offer.”
“Well.” Shane isn't surprised that Ilya Rozanov, the No.1 Obnoxious CEO, must have said or done something stupid to earn even more hate from him and his parents.
Ilya's business thrives on literally eating other companies and profiting off of it. Shane hasn't seen or met anyone that didn't have something sour to say about him. There are two groups of audience for Ilya Rozanov; there are the women that fall head first for the persona he puts up to the press (which is World's Richest Asshole), and then there are people like Shane who can't stand him.
“I can't even say it.” Yuna glares down at her liquor filled glass.
David ends up telling Shane about Rozanov's offer. “But that's stupid,” he says. “Only 35%?”
“He said that he will do it on the condition that you two get married for the year the deal takes place in,” David explains with an air of mockery.
Shane is silent for a fraction of a second as the sentence his dad said repeats itself in his mind, then he starts laughing. “You can't be serious,” he says in between breaths.
When his parents remain quiet with unreadable expressions on their faces, it dawns on Shane that they were, in fact, serious.
“He said that?” Shane asks incredulously. “Who the fuck does he think he is?”
He is the person who holds the lifeline of your parents’ business.
“Married?” Shane repeats the word a little emptily. Not that he is involved in any romantic relationships right now, but he has always thought about it as something he would like to take his time with at some point in the future, but right now his job has all his focus.
“Yeah, some sort of a fake arrangement to bait the public into thinking it’s a collaboration rather than an acquisition.” Yuna tiredly claps her hand down on the kitchen island.
“People would fall for that? We have never even met personally before.” He scrunches his nose up in disgust.
A beat of silence passes, then, “technically you two are the hottest, most talked about figures nowadays. I’m pretty sure some people would get behind something like this.” Yuna says slowly.
Shane looks at her, and he is suddenly made aware of the thin lines on her forehead, the tension framing her shoulders and the corners of her mouth. The light in her eyes has long dimmed a while ago, but now they remind Shane of an empty house. Dark and haunted.
He then looks at his dad, and his heart folds in his chest at the weight that is visibly slumping David’s shoulders down the way he imagines an angel would look like with broken wings.
His mother shifts on two feet and runs a hand through her hair. “Why are we still talking about this? I don’t want to hear that na—”
“I’ll do it.” Shane surprises them and himself by saying.
David’s mouth falls open in shock.
“What?! No. Shane this is not even an option,” his mum argues.
“You said that this was his only condition, right? If I live with him this year, the company’s state will improve?”
“According to what he said, yes, but—”
“Then, I’ll do it.” He swallows hard. “It’s a small price to pay, I guess.”
“Honey,” Yuna says shakily. “You don’t owe us anything, do you hear me?”
“Shane, this isn’t a trade off,” David says, his voice serious. “We’re not sending you off to him so we can get our company back.”
“No.” Shane shakes his head. “This is business,” he says, looking into both his parents’ eyes. “This is what we’re good at, right?”
Yuna silently nods, her lips twitching in the slightest bit in a smile.
“And we never back down from a challenge,” he says more to himself than to Yuna and David.
He takes a deep breath, his stomach tightening with the rough image of living in an extravagant house with a Russian stranger he can barely stand. “What’s the worst that could happen?”